nce
concerning. And the next morning I was sent off to Pitcairn to worm it
from him if he had heard you threatening the duke the day before, and
discovered that not only did he hear that, but knew as well, from the
fool chemist, that you were seen running away from Stair on the very
heels of the murder, and if a blacker case was ever set for a woman to
clear away I have yet to hear of it."

"I came up from Father Michel's through your grounds, hoping to catch a
sight of her by the light in the writing-room. When I was far toward
home I discovered that I had lost the cap she gave me, and turned back
for it, but the snow was so deep I thought it useless," Danvers
explained.

Upon this I told the story, a piece at a time, going backward and
forward over all that has been set down, and the effect of it upon the
lad is impossible to describe. When I told of Nancy's finding his cap
he put his hands over his eyes, and sat with his face covered until the
clear end of the telling, when he looked up at me with a great sadness,
which had joy in it as well.

"Where is she, Lord Stair; may I see her?" he asked.

"I'll go up with you and see," I answered, as I held him by the arm for
a minute. "Will you be good to her?" I asked.

"Good to her!" he cried. "If she'll have me!--if the rest of my life's
service can atone in any way for all the misery I've caused her--it's
hers for the taking."

"God bless you," I said; "God bless and keep you both."

The door of the sitting-room stood a bit open, and I entered to find
Nancy in a loose white wrapper in a great-chair by the fire.

"I've some company for you, Little Flower!" I began, and my voice
choked me so that she looked at me in surprise.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It's one who has been too long gone," I answered her, but by this time
reason and convention were blown to the four winds of heaven, for at
sound of that beloved voice the door was thrown open and Danvers was on
his knees before her, his face buried in her hands.

"My girl!" he cried, "my girl! Can ye forgive me for all the
misjudgments I made of you? Can you forget all the sorrow and misery I
have brought into your life? Can you just let the past be by with and
take me to your heart, for 'tis the only place I've ever known
happiness or peace in all my life? I'm not worthy of you," he went on,
"no man ever born was that; but say you care enough--that you think
you----"

And here the woman spoke:

"Good or b